


The Beginning is Always Today

by CarmillaCarmine



Series: The Memoirs of Dr. John H. Watson [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, International Women's Day, Self-Reflection, empowerment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23051263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarmillaCarmine/pseuds/CarmillaCarmine
Summary: Molly wants to impress Sherlock and realises that the only woman who came close to that was Irene Adler. She decides to go on an adventure to seek advice from The Woman, only to find that Irene has a completely different opinion on where the problem lays. Ms Adler is determined to open Molly's eyes and help her embrace the extraordinary woman she is and forget the man who is in love with someone else.The title is a quote by Mary Shelley.Happy International Women's Day!
Relationships: Irene Adler/Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: The Memoirs of Dr. John H. Watson [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1158497
Comments: 31
Kudos: 57





	The Beginning is Always Today

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a standalone but can be read as a part of Johnlock "deleted scenes" style series [The Memoirs of Dr. John H. Watson"](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1158497)  
> .

"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will."  
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

More than a full minute passed before she managed to knock on the door to the sitting room of 221B, hoping beyond rational reason that Sherlock wouldn't be home.

A breath of relief left her when it was John who answered the door and let her in.

“Good morning, Molly,” he greeted her cheerfully, albeit with one eyebrow raised in surprise.

“John...hi.” She stood just inside the room and nervously played with the sleeve of her jacket. “Is... is Sherlock here?”

“No, uh... he isn’t. He was already gone when I woke up. I have no idea where he went. You’re welcome to wait; I’ve just put the kettle on to boil.” He waved a hand to indicate the sofa for her to sit.

“Good. I mean, I came to see you actually.” 

“Oh? Okay.” John didn’t hide his surprise. He lifted an index finger in a universal gesture for her to wait when the clicking sound of the electric kettle reached them, and he started in that direction. “Make yourself comfortable,” he called from the kitchen.

She shrugged her grey raincoat off and draped it over the backrest of the sofa before taking a seat on it. Her jeans felt incredibly rough when she wiped her damp palms on them before clasping them together on her lap.

John placed a tray laden with the teapot, a small milk jug, and two cups on saucers, and sat on the opposite side of the sofa. She smiled at the brand label on the milk that said “Watson’s” and looked up at John who immediately caught on to her mirth.

“Sherlock insists it’s a clear sign that I’m the one who should always get the milk, because the universe is rarely so lazy.” He said the last part in a lower voice, attempting an impersonation of the detective. Molly laughed, her nervousness dissipating in the presence of this kind and funny man. She looked at him then and wondered why she couldn't be attracted to someone like John Watson. It would be so much easier...

“That’s Sherlock,” she chuckled and saw a soft smile cross John’s face as he looked away towards his flatmate’s chair on the other side of the room. 

“So,” John started, slapping both his palms on his thighs once, “what can I help you with?”

Suddenly, her palms were sweaty again, and she felt heat creep into her cheeks. She lifted the cup of tea John had poured for her and hid her face behind it. The liquid was too hot to even sip, and she was out of options to stall.

“Remember Irene Adler?” She asked, gathering the courage to say what she came here for. Her eyes went wide at the dark look that crossed John’s face after hearing the name He remained collected, however, even if there were clearly no love lost between him and The Woman. “I need to contact her-” She placed her tea back on the table as the cup started clattering against the saucer in her trembling hands.

“Why would you need  _ her _ ?” John spat the last word and Molly was stunned to see John’s temper go from zero to furious in 0.5 seconds flat before he took a deep breath and calmed his expression. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” John took a sip of his tea and pursed his lips into a tight line as the hot liquid must have burnt his mouth. “I don’t have her exact address, but I know she lives in Prague. Or at least, that’s where she was last that I know of. I do have her email though.” Without looking back at Molly, he stood up and walked towards the desk. “It was on Sherlock’s...well.” John looked at the laptop, clicked several times, and wrote the email address on a scrap of paper lying on the desk. 

Molly looked at the single line of letters and symbols in her hand when John handed it to her and wondered if she were doing the right thing.

_ _ _

It took Molly two weeks to gather the courage to write the email, composing and deleting several versions before finally closing her eyes and clicking “send”.

The next day, she received an email with a pdf file and one sentence: “Read, mark, and sign.”

Molly spent the whole night Googling the terms in the file, blushing and squirming in her seat, trying not to lose her determination to continue. When she finally sent it back, she hoped she wouldn’t regret her decision. After waiting several days for a response, she worried that she had been forgotten. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened. However, within a week, a simple email with an address, a date, and time arrived. 

Purely for safety reasons, she texted John to inform him that she was going to Prague for a week and asked him not to tell anyone else. She trusted him to keep her secret, but she still feared the transparency of her motive.

It had been years since she’d first seen Sherlock Holmes and fallen head over heels for him. In order to attract him, she’d tried everything she could think of: she had been nice, helpful, made him coffee, risked her job to allow him entrance to the morgue, she had even stolen several body parts for his experiments, and put on lipstick whenever he came to visit. After trying so hard for a while, she wondered if it were just her or if he weren't interested in anyone, male or female. 

Except John. 

John was his best friend, and they were compatible in their work together, and beyond that in the way they understood each other and seemed able to communicate solely with a wordless look. Despite what everyone seemed to think, however, they were certainly not a couple. John had said as much many times and to top it off insisted on not being gay

Then one day, everything had changed.

Molly had been surprised when Sherlock stormed into her workspace with his brother on his heels, both walking in like they owned the place and throwing demands at her. She complied, opening the body bag to show them the horribly battered face of someone who they all thought had been Irene Adler. However, that had not been the worst moment of their visit. 

When it had become clear that identification would be impossible from looking at the face alone, she had been asked to unveil the woman’s body. After one look over the corpse’s naked form, Sherlock was certain that it was Irene Adler. Sherlock, the man who was almost never wrong. Sherlock, who had never looked at her as an object of desire, recognized a woman by her naked body.

Molly’s world had turned upside down. 

She had spent months going over the events of that day, finally deciding she needed to be more aggressive in her actions. In an act of desperation, she had even worn a figure-hugging dress for Christmas, but Sherlock had hardly noticed her even then. The soft brush of his lips on her cheek had almost made up for the cruel words he had delivered a moment before that, and she had finally gotten a taste of the man Sherlock could be. Maybe if he gave her a chance, she could make him want her the way he clearly desired The Woman. 

Irene Adler was the only person who could help her. After all, it had not been her body that day in the morgue.

Molly’s flight was uneventful and so was her taxi ride to the designated address. She was an hour earlier than she’d been told to arrive, but hoped that wouldn’t be a problem. 

When Irene Adler opened the door, she looked as if she were ready for a business conference followed by a sex orgy afterwards. A knee-length maroon dress hugged her curves while a smart, black blazer covered what the dress clearly didn’t. 

Cold sweat broke out on Molly’s back when she thought that maybe that was exactly what she had dressed for, knowing Molly was coming.

“Hello, Molly,” Irene said in a smooth voice as she took a step to the side to let her in. “May I call you Molly?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Hello.” She entered and immediately looked around the posh interior, pastel walls covered with beautiful old art that she hadn’t the knowledge to identify exactly. Ms. Adler indicated for her to sit on the white leather sofa with a small wooden table in front of it. She poured tea from the teapot into the two teacups on the tray, and then offered Molly a biscuit from a plateful of delicate-looking treats. 

“I trust your flight was pleasant?” Ms Adler asked, smiling politely.

“Yes, yes it was.” Molly looked first into her cup, then at the woman sitting on the other side of the table on a large white armchair that matched the sofa. 

“John Watson sent me a clear message stating that if anything happened to you, he would come after me personally. As it happens, I actually believe he meant it, so you have absolutely nothing to worry about, if you weren’t previously sure of my intentions.” She said it as if she were talking about knitting a scarf rather than a threat she’d received over email. 

Molly felt her cheeks flush at being found out, but the information did make her feel a tiny bit safer. She had never travelled abroad alone, but the information she had gathered about The Woman was sufficient to make her believe she shouldn’t fear for her safety. However, one can never be certain. She was very lucky to have been blessed with wonderful friends who would worry about her. If only Sherlock...

“I need your help...” Molly blurted out, then hesitated but sat straighter to show that she meant business.

“You can call me Ms. Adler.” The Woman said, crossing her legs gracefully as she eyed Molly with interest. 

“... Ms. Adler.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments!


End file.
